


Summer Nights

by TheNumberFour



Category: Strange Magic - Fandom
Genre: Camp AU, F/M, Human AU, Summer Camp AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:29:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNumberFour/pseuds/TheNumberFour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the threat of expulsion from school looming over his head, Bog King has the summer to get his act together, and is roped into being a camp counselor by his mother, Griselda. On the opposite side of the lake at the new rival camp, Marianne is struggling with getting her cheating ex off her back and keeping her boy-crazy sister out of trouble in addition to her responsibilities as a camp counselor. When the two happen to meet one day in the woods between the camps, the two become unlikely allies as chaos ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I have this fic posted on my tumblr already, and I wanted to post it elsewhere to keep it all together and neat and tidy too. I discussed this a lot on Tumblr with ThePraxianWeasleyGeek, so not all of the ideas presented here are mine. Just putting them all together! En

“Bog’s actions today were deplorable, as has, unfortunately, become the norm.” The disheveled principal sat behind the large office desk, addressing a concerned woman and her uncaring son, who had begun to examine a hangnail while he was being reprimanded.

“I apologize for my son’s actions, Mr. Lucas. I’m not sure what’s gotten into him, but I promise you that I’ll be gettin’ to the bottom of it.” Griselda King replied, shooting an angry glare at her son, who wasn’t even paying enough attention to respond. The raven-haired boy before her had somehow managed to lure a flock of pigeons into the principal’s office – a very well-fed flock, too. They were currently meeting in the vice-principal’s office while Principal Lucas’ office was being thoroughly disinfected of the pigeons’ feathers and waste.

“A student would normally be expelled for this.” Mr. Lucas began, eyeing the boy with contempt and disappointment, a look which Bog probably would have matched with equal disdain were he not so consumed with picking at his nail. The principal continued, “However, since it’s the last day of school, I will make an exception. Your boy was once an upstanding student, and I would like to see that student again.” The proposition piqued Bog’s interest. No way in hell was he going to revert back to that ignorant sap he used to be. 

Bog decided to abandon the hangnail to stare up at the man, whose reaction definitely affirmed that he’d noticed the defiant glint in Bog’s eye. He silently dared the principal to try and mold him back into the stupid _doormat_ he once was.

“He will be allowed to return next year,” The principal stated, not caring about Bog’s unspoken challenge, and Griselda let out a sigh of relief, “but only if he can get his act together by the end of the summer.” The principal finished, then went on to explain the terms of this agreement. Griselda was to give a weekly progress report, and if Bog’s behavior seemed to improve, he would be allowed back for three weeks, and permanently if he could prove to the teachers and administration that his attitude was in check. 

Bog, once again, found that he couldn’t be bothered to listen to the man’s spiel, but Griselda nodded intently, trying to make up for her son’s disrespectfulness.

“Thank you Mr. Lucas!” The stout woman stood once the principal dismissed them, firmly shaking the man’s hand, “I promise I won’t let you down.”   
As soon as they’d left the principal’s office, a cigarette had found its way into Bog’s mouth. He raised his lighter to the tip, clearly ignoring the school’s no-smoking policy as well as the law, but Griselda swiped it out of his hand before he got a chance.

“You’re too young for that.” She said, not even glancing at the boy’s glare of protest.

“I’m almost eighteen, mother.” Bog snapped, his partial Scottish accent echoing through the empty hallway.

“But you’re not yet.” Griselda replied tersely, trying to keep up with her much-taller son’s long strides. 

“Come on, mother.” Bog rolled his eyes at his mother with the cigarette still hanging from his lips, knowing she’d eventually cave and let him have his way.

“We’ll talk about this in the car.” She said curtly. “And you’re sure as hell not smokin’ in there.”

The boy removed the cigarette from his mouth and shoved it back in the pack, quirking an eyebrow at the furious woman. Griselda was a very loving and easygoing mother, but recently Bog had been testing her limits. He’d never seen her as angry as she was now. 

They’d finally made it to Griselda’s black, beat-up PT Cruiser. Griselda got in immediately and started the car right up, but Bog took his sweet time, finding an old lighter in his jacket pocket with just enough fluid left to light a cigarette. He inhaled the fumes deeply, but Griselda startled him by violently revving the Cruiser’s engine. As he choked and gasped for air, she rolled down the passenger-side window.

“If you don’t put that damn thing out, I’m leavin’ without you!” 

“Alright, alright!” He rasped once he regained control over his lungs, tossing the wasted cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath the toe of his boot, and opening the door to squeeze into the small car with the frazzled-looking redhead.

Not a second after she closed the door, she was interrogating him.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“You know very well why what.” Griselda retorted. “Is all this nonsense because of Lorelei?”

The sound of that name elicited a snarl from Bog, who then proceeded to cross his arms and sink lower in his seat.

“It is!” Griselda’s tone instantly softened after she realized. She knew her son had a big heart, or at least he used to. She’d definitely foreseen him getting hurt badly at some point because of it, even though she desperately wanted him to find the love he was looking for. She hadn’t thought that one instance of unrequited affection would turn his heart to stone and make him give up all hope for love.

“Oh, Bog, you know these things happen. Not everythin’ goes right the first time, sweetie…” She tried. She’d said it so many times before, that it had almost become a mantra.

Bog let out a ‘hmph,’ evidently intent on keeping his mouth closed while she was on the topic. The two were silent for a while, and Griselda didn’t try to push the previous matter any further. She’d had enough of the brooding tough-guy act, and she’d been considering something recently that had the potential to help her son find happiness again. Once she’d come to a final decision, she saw fit to break the silence.

“You’re gonna work at camp with me this summer.” “WHAT?” Bog exclaimed. Griselda was secretly quite satisfied with his reaction.

“You thought I was gonna let you stay home alone after the stunt you pulled today? Not a chance!” She said, nearly laughing at the thought. “It’ll be good for you, and I need to keep an eye on you anyways. You’re gonna be a counselor at Camp Moondown!”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I don’t care if you’re my mother. I can get pigeons in your bedroom too.” He muttered, glaring out the window in obvious frustration. “I’m not going.”

“Yes,” Griselda stated sharply, “you are. When we get home, start packin’. We’re leavin’ later in the afternoon.”

Bog slumped down even further, pouting like a small child. Arguing with his mother was useless. Once she got an idea in her head, she saw it through to the end, Bog had learned over the years. Camp Moondown had been Griselda’s summer business, for over 20 years. Bog had spent every summer of his life there, but this summer he’d been planning on staying home, claiming that he was “too old for camp”. 

“What were you plannin’ on doin’ here all summer anyway?” Griselda asked. “More sulkin’?”

Bog hmph-ed again, choosing to stare out the window at the emerald forest passing by.

“Apparently.” Griselda answered her own question. She took her eyes off the road for a few moments glance over at her son, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “Who knows, ya might find some summer lovin’ to make you forget about everythin’.”

“Yeah, alright then, Mum.” Bog grunted with disbelief and sarcasm evident in his tone.

Griselda sighed, knowing that this summer she had her work cut out for her. She’d find her boy a nice girl to mend that broken heart if it took all summer.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

“C’mon, Marianne!”

“Go away, Roland.”

“It meant nothing!” The blonde boy pleaded. “She was nothing.”

“I swear to God, I will deck you right now.” The brunette girl, Marianne, snarled, waving her clenched fist at her ex-boyfriend, letting him know that she wasn’t bluffing. Evidently, Roland didn’t get the hint. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him in the way that used to make her weak in the knees. Marianne squeaked in surprise, trying not to give in to the familiar feeling that threatened to creep over her and allow him to have his way. But she resisted well, instead trying to wriggle out of his grip.

“Let go!” She hissed, stomping her foot down hard on his. He yelped and let her go to grab his throbbing foot. She turned and headed for the canteen, intent on finding her sister, who’d texted her a few minutes ago inviting her to lunch. Marianne didn’t have time for Roland’s nonsense; she’d much rather spend time with her little sister before camp got busy.

“What the hell was that for?” Roland groaned in pain, hopping on one foot.

“If you seriously have to ask, then you’re a freaking moron. Get the hell away from me.”

“But–” He protested.

“NO!” Marianne’s voice came dangerously close to a shout. “Go prepare. The campers will be here in less than a day. Go make the beds, clean equipment, check to see if everything’s in order, I don’t fucking care. Just get away from me!” As she growled out her last exclamation, Marianne felt the hot tears prick at her eyes, a familiar and all-too-frequent feeling that she definitely knew how to deal with by now. She swallowed back her emotion and replaced it once more with the hard exterior she’d grown used to. 

Roland, somewhat taken aback by her outburst, limped away toward his assigned cabin. She shot a satisfied smirk at his retreating figure and continued toward the canteen.

She and Roland had dated for two years, but she’d caught him sneaking around with another girl about a month ago. Unfortunately, Roland had convinced her father to hire him as a camp counselor this summer, in a vain attempt to try and win her back.

Marianne hadn’t believed it when her father had told her the ‘good news’.

_“Can you believe it? How romantic is that, Marianne?” Came her father’s jolly tone. “Such a fine boy for my eldest daughter.”_

_“Dad, are you forgetting that he broke your eldest daughter’s heart in the first place?” Marianne paced in front of her father in clear distress. “Any normal father would be at his house with some sort of weapon the moment they found out he was dirty, rotten, cheating scum!”_

_“Oh, Marianne… People make mistakes sometimes!” Her father stood from his easy chair and coaxed his frantic daughter into a warm hug, which she didn’t quite want to return at the moment. She only did so to appease her well-meaning father._

_“Would you have ever cheated on mom?” Marianne knew the words would hit home with him, and he broke off the hug, his expression darkening only slightly at the thought of her late mother, the love of his life._

_“Well, times are different now, darling.” Her father said gently, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. “Boys in this day and age are restless and need to explore new options.” What a ridiculous argument that was!_

_“That’s absolute bullshit and you know it.” She growled at him, stomping her foot in her rage._

_“Language, Marianne!”_

_“I really don’t give a damn right now!” The brunette girl threw her arms in the air in exasperation. “Call him back and tell him the position is filled. Right now.” Marianne demanded. Her father sat back down, resting his head in one hand and massaging his temples, and Marianne had a feeling that he’d assumed this position because he knew she wouldn’t like what he was going to say next. She motioned for him to respond, bracing herself for an answer she was almost positive would set off her temper._

_“It’s too late. I’ve already given him the job.”_

_“You WHAT!?”_

So here she was, stuck at Camp Firefly, her father’s latest business endeavor, with her cheating ex relentlessly pursuing her. She thought this summer would be a nice deviation from the norm, but instead all of her problems from home had followed her here. 

She finally came to the canteen, the smell of fresh paint and sawdust still somewhat lingering in the air from the building’s recent construction. At the table closest to the entrance sat her blonde-haired, blue-eyed sister, Dawn, talking animatedly to a shorter, dark-skinned boy; Dawn’s best friend, Sunny. 

Once Dawn spotted Marianne, she waved her over, as if the older girl hadn’t noticed the only two kids sitting in the empty cafeteria. Marianne chuckled to herself at her sister’s enthusiasm and turned into the kitchen to grab her sandwich from the fridge.

“Ugh,” Marianne groaned as she sat down beside her sister, taking in the sight of their mostly-finished lunches, “Sorry I’m late. Roland won’t leave me alone.”

“Wow, he’s not letting up, is he? Do you think you could… give it another shot?” Dawn asked, eyeing Marianne carefully and gauging her reaction.

“So he can cheat on me again? Don’t think so.” Marianne said as she chewed her food. Dawn relaxed a bit, relieved that her suggestion didn’t cause her sister’s temper to rise any further. 

“Roland said that she kissed him…” Sunny mumbled from across the table, finishing off his own sandwich. Marianne looked up sharply at the boy, who swallowed his food and put his hands up to signal that he wasn’t finished. “I’m not saying that I don’t believe you or that I believe him or anything, but he really did seem genuinely sorry to me.” He continued, sweating under the pressure of Marianne’s glare. 

“Well, Sunny,” Marianne placed her sandwich back on the crumpled sheet of tinfoil on the table, “If _she_ kissed _him_ would you like to tell me how she got the opportunity to kiss him in the first place? He didn’t tell you _that_ , did he?” Marianne’s voice was dangerously low as she tore massive holes in the younger boy’s claim. “Did he happen to mention that he never pushed her away until I made my presence known? It was a good minute that I stood there, watching him kiss her back.”

“I’m, uh, really sorry, Marianne.” Sunny looked ashamedly down at the table, suddenly taking an interest in a particular knot in the wood and studying it until he could sense her gaze ease up.

“Damn right.” She said, intensifying her glare to make him squirm just a bit more until Dawn laid a hand lightly on her forearm. At that, Marianne sighed and returned to eating her sandwich which made Sunny slump over in relief.

It wasn’t that Marianne didn’t like Sunny; she really did. He was almost like a brother to her. But that didn’t change the fact that the little guy was incredibly fun to mess with. She knew for a fact that he was madly in love with her sister and she was protective of Dawn, so she needed to make sure he was willing to put up with any crap that either of the sisters could dish out.

She would also admit that he was a bit gullible. When she and Roland were still an item, Sunny began to idolize the older boy, who was so handsome and cool and likeable and could get any girl that he wanted. She knew that because of this, Sunny would want to believe anything that Roland told him, and she couldn’t help but try to break him of that habit. Sunny was a funny and nice guy all on his own, and Marianne wouldn’t lose that guy to one who followed in Roland’s footsteps. So whenever the words ‘Roland said,’ left his mouth, she would try her damndest to make him rethink it.

“I’m… gonna go check on the boats again.” Sunny said, awkwardly standing, bidding Dawn and Marianne goodbye, and shuffling sheepishly out the door. Dawn smiled reassuringly at him before he left, trying to let him know that Marianne didn’t mean any harm. One he was gone, the blonde turned back to glare at her sister.

Marianne took in Dawn’s irritated stare with indifference. “What?” She shrugged.

“Do you _have_ to scare the living daylights out of Sunny? He was only trying to help you.” Marianne didn’t really understand how trying to justify Roland’s actions qualified as helping, but oh well.

“I was just messing with him!”

“You should probably tell him that.” Dawn replied. “He’s terrified of you.”

“Fantastic!” Marianne exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips and puffing out her chest, with an overdramatized stoic expression on her face. “It is my duty to strike fear into the hearts of men.”

Dawn couldn’t help but giggle, and smacked Marianne on the arm.

“I’m trying to be serious here!” Dawn said.

“Look, Dawn. Roland isn’t a good guy.” Marianne dropped the pose and rested her arms back on the table, twiddling her fingers. “And Sunny’s naïve. He wants to be like Roland, but doesn’t see that he’s doing just fine when he doesn’t try to be someone he’s not! I’m trying to make him see that.” She conveniently left out that Sunny was probably doing this for Dawn. The boy-crazy girl went after guys like Roland all the time. It really unsettled Marianne, because she didn’t want her sister to get hurt like she did, but Dawn’s crushes tended to change almost daily. Marianne didn’t have to be concerned about any attachment until Dawn took a liking to a guy long enough for him to like her back. 

“I know. I don’t like when he does that either.” Dawn sighed. “But you don’t need to be so harsh about it. Promise me you’ll let up on him a little?” She looked pleadingly at her older sister, who pursed her lips as she considered it.

“Fine.”

“Great!” Dawn exclaimed, jumping up and hugging her sister tightly. “I gotta go! Dad put me on a shift with David to organize the supplies in the craft cabin!” She squealed excitedly.

“Ooh, _David_.” Marianne smirked back, knowing automatically that the fellow counselor was Dawn’s most recent crush of the week. “Have fun.”

The peppy girl bounced out of the canteen, leaving Marianne alone. After making quick work of the rest of her sandwich, Marianne grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and headed outside to the water. Her next shift didn’t begin for a while and the beach seemed like a nice place to relax.

She sat down, not minding the slight itch of sand that crept into her shorts, and looked out over the lake at the camp across the way. From what she could see from here, it certainly wasn’t nearly as pretty as Firefly, with cabins surely wrought with mildew that had rickety, slightly sagging roofs that appeared to be missing shingles. She studied the opposing camp for a bit longer, strangely fascinated by the grungy-looking grounds shrouded in overgrown trees and brush. 

Her father had taken great pains to eliminate most of the woods surrounding Firefly, leaving enough for nature walks and hikes and such, but this camp looked like it hadn’t had a good landscaping in far too long. She wrinkled her nose, thinking of the amount of bugs and mosquitos campers probably had to deal with on a daily basis.

Marianne almost wondered if it had been abandoned but she knew it wasn’t; her father had told her so. They’d be in competition from now on, and from the way her father worked, it probably wouldn’t last for long. She felt somewhat bad for place and especially for its owners. To her, it didn’t seem like much at all, but for other people it probably held a lot of memories.

Suddenly, she was jerked out of her thoughts as her cell phone alarm went off. It was time for her next work shift. After standing and brushing all of the sand off, she trudged back to the main campground, just hoping she didn’t run into Roland on the way there and praying that her work shift didn’t involve him. She let out a groan of annoyance, getting the feeling that any tranquility she could possibly find here would be completely eclipsed by the knowledge of Roland’s presence setting her on edge. 

_Wonderful_ , she thought dismally. _This summer was shaping up to be just wonderful._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Here's the second chapter! Hope you guys enjoy it!

One week later, everyone had arrived and settled into the camp routine. Everyone except for Bog, that is. The counselor slept in well past the alarms that the campers were forced to set on their own phones just so they could get to their scheduled activities on time, a habit they’d picked up as early on as the second day of camp. The first day, Bog had made it absolutely clear that his slumber was not to be disturbed, and because of that, all of his campers missed their first activities.

Griselda had finally had enough of her son’s nonsense, and rounded up Bog’s campers during noon lunch hour. The boys from his cabin surrounded his bed, waiting eagerly to see how their counselor’s mother was planning to disturb him. The head of the camp waited for the boys to quiet down before hefting a large bucket of lake water aloft and proceeded to dump it all over Bog. The teen gave a shout and sat up immediately, completely unafraid to maul whoever dared disturb him in this way… until he discovered that it was his mother.

“Mum!” The drenched boy looked up at his mother with wide eyes, and then glared at his giggling campers.

“Let this be a warning: I’ll do this every mornin’ if you don’t get up on time.” Griselda said, somewhat more firmly than he expected.

“But Mum–” He tried to protest, but was cut off.

“But nothin’. You’ve been given a responsibility.” She stated, setting the bucket down on the floor.

“Wasn’t given much of a choice.” He mumbled under his breath. She put her hands on her hips when she heard it.

“Tough.” Griselda grunted. “You gotta stick to it anyway.”

Bog let out a snarl and got out of bed, grabbing clothes from his duffel bag and heading out to the showers.

“Your next shift is 1:00 kayaking with Katie.” Griselda told him, raising her voice over the campers, who’d begun to cheer as he stormed out of the cabin. He glanced back at her and saw a hint of a smirk on her face. With _Katie_ … His mother was trying to set him up again!

Yesterday, when he finally roused himself from bed, he’d been assigned to work with Ashley, and the day before it’d been Julia. It wasn’t that Katie wasn’t a good-looking girl. He found the short, brown-haired girl pretty cute, but found the girl was too bubbly and just not his type. It was the same with the others. Julia’s voice was too squeaky, Ashley was too quiet and shy for his liking.

He proceeded to take his shower, and then changed into a pair of jeans and his white camp shirt that made up the counselors’ uniform. He mentally cursed his mother as he trudged to the docks, where Katie was waiting for him, a peculiar smile on her face.

“Hey.” He gave the girl a single nod of acknowledgement. She bit her lip briefly, then responded.

“Hey, Bog! Long time no see!” She said enthusiastically. “About time you got out of that cabin, huh?” He refrained from shooting her a look of confusion. He’d done nothing to warrant such kindness. _Pity_ , he resolved. She pitied him and the pathetic position he was in, just like the other girls had on the previous days. He was sure everyone at the camp knew about what had happened at school. Griselda had been vocal enough about it. Instead he returned her bright smile with a shrug and a small, awkward smile of his own. They stood in awkward silence for a moment until Bog had had enough.

“Are the boats ready?” Bog asked.

“Yeah, I got them all in the water this morning.”

“Great.” He replied, turning away from the girl and toward the excited campers approaching, an indifferent expression on his face.

“Alright, campers!” Katie squealed. “What we’re going to do is a relay! Each team will go out to the center of the lake, where that buoy is,” She gestured to the bright red-orange float bobbing up and down in the water, “and back! Do we all remember our water safety routine?” She was met with a chorus of ‘Yes’-es. Katie gave a thumbs up to the campers and turned away to grab two life vests.

“Bog and I will go first to show you guys how it’s done, okay?” Katie said, pulling on her life vest and handing the other to Bog, who frowned slightly at it. He knew how to swim well enough, but he didn’t think it was at all necessary, only accepting it anyway to avoid giving the children ideas that might cause him more trouble than he wanted to deal with. Katie hopped in the boat first, taking the front seat of the two-person kayak. Bog handed her a paddle and took one for himself, settling down in the rear seat. She flipped her ponytail and glanced back at him a few times before she signaled for him to go.

And then they were off, paddling in unison and making their way to the center of the lake toward the buoy. They were doing pretty well until they made it to their destination. Had Bog been sitting in the front, he would have surely noticed the other kayak, but Katie had apparently been lost in her concentration. As they maneuvered around the buoy, the hull of the approaching kayak narrowly missed the tail of Bog and Katie’s.

“Watch it!” A female voice shouted from nearby, and Bog caught a glimpse of a short-haired brunette in the front seat of the other kayak, her big brown eyes flashing with fury.

“Why don’t you?” He snarled back at the girl, leaning forward and almost tipping the kayak. Katie let out a scream, quickly righted the kayak, and began to paddle away before a fight could break out in the middle of the lake. The two kayaks parted ways again, returning to their respective camps.

Bog’s paddling was driven by his frustration with the kayakers from the other camp. They didn’t see them coming? He rolled his eyes and pushed on, and Katie actually had to tell him to slow down; she couldn’t keep up with his paddling pace.

When they were back on the dock, Katie made sure to inform the kids that the other camp was also kayaking, and instructed them be sure to pay attention at all times. Bog just silently fumed.

He wasn’t a fan of the other camp and its shiny newness and he expected the campers and counselors to be just as pretentious as the camp itself looked. Its close proximity also angered him, as it proved to be a threat to all of his mother’s hard work. He pretended not to care, but he knew Camp Moondown was one of the things that kept a smile on her face throughout the rest of the year.

Bog shot a glare at the opposite shore, though he knew no one over there could see it. He resolved that he’d get them back tonight, after the bonfire. He’d make them regret ever setting foot on his territory. Wait, his territory? Bog growled internally, realizing that his mother had somehow gotten him to care about their summer tradition again, and had managed to get the best of his uncaring façade. Or maybe it’d been that chick from the boat… Either way, he welcomed the challenge.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Marianne was pissed for a multitude of reasons. First and foremost, there was the matter of being assigned to set up the bonfire with Roland. She briefly considered trapping him inside the pile of firewood and playing dumb if anyone asked where he’d disappeared to, but decided against it, instead pondering whether or not she wanted to hit him with a log if he made one more comment about what (who) was hotter than the bonfire was going to be.

Second, she was still really ticked about those two knucklehead kayakers from the opposite camp who weren’t paying attention to where they were going, and especially that one rude kid who dared to challenge her when he was clearly in the wrong. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to interact with that bozo ever again, but it still didn’t stop her rage.

It was starting to get dark, and all the firewood was stacked perfectly in the fire pit. The campers began to gather, so Marianne lit the bonfire and sat down, looking around for her cabin’s campers. Roland had thankfully disappeared, and Marianne breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t have to worry about scooting away and swapping seats when he sat too close, as was the case with the week’s previous bonfires.

As everyone settled down, one kid tried to rally the rest of the campers into an admittedly amusing version of the Spongebob Campfire Song Song, but not as many people were into it. Starting traditions in a new camp was bound to be difficult, especially when no one wanted to step up and be the first to try, or join in when someone finally did try. Instead of singing potentially inappropriate songs, like campers usually did, they were all just chatting idly with each other, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing during the first week. 

Suddenly, from the other side of the bonfire, Marianne heard music begin to play. The campers parted to let Roland through as a kid beside him strummed an acoustic guitar. His green eyes scanned the crowd, and when his gaze finally landed on Marianne, he began to sing.

“ _Whoa-oh-oh here I am_ …” He began. Most of the female campers and counselors, and some of the males swooned at the first sweet tenor notes of Roland’s song.

“Roland!” Marianne hissed.

“ _On my knees again_ …” He knelt down in front of her, taking her hand, which she promptly yanked out of his grip.

“ _I’d do anything just to make it right_.” He looked up at her with big green eyes and twirled a lock of hair around his finger, making his hair do the little curly-floppy thing that she used to love so much.

“I’m so sure.” She scoffed, unfazed, while crossing her arms over her chest.

“ _Say you’ll understand_ …” Was he for real?

“Nuh-uh. Don’t think so.” Marianne waved him away.

“ _Ooh, I know you can_.” 

“Then you’re sorely mistaken.” She replied icily.

“ _C’mon Marianne_ …” He sang, and was echoed by campers he’d probably bribed to harmonize with him just as he’d bribed the kid with the guitar. He was going through a lot of trouble to try to get back in her good graces. Roland was known to have a dramatic flair, but no stunt he could pull was ever going to be enough to persuade Marianne to forgive him. 

But just then, the song’s tempo picked up.

“ _No matter what people say, it didn’t happen that way. She was a passing flame, and not a permanent thing_.”

“Do you even hear yourself, Roland?” Marianne raged, clenching her fists.

“ _Say you’ll understand. Oh, I know you can. C’mon Marianne! Say you can understand, my Marianne!_ ” 

“I’m not ‘your anything’! Not anymore.” Marianne spat. She tried to storm off through the sea of campers, but Roland caught her by the arm, pulling her close and tracing a finger down her jawline.

“ _Well, now your big brown eyes are all full of tears from the bitterness of my cheatin’ years_...”

“Your eyes will be full of tears in a minute if you don’t get the hell away from me!” She pushed him off of her, but he continued nonetheless.

“ _So I hang my head, wishin’ I was dead_ …”

“That can be arranged.”

“ _C’mon Marianne!_ ”

“NO!” She finally shouted at him, managing to draw some applause from the crowd of campers and counselors. The kid playing guitar was too shocked and afraid of the furious girl to continue. 

“God, Roland, just _shut up!_ ” She threw her arms up in the air, stepping up to him and poking him in the chest, but he still wore that stupid grin on his face. “You think you’ve got the best of me…” And with those words, an idea came to her. It was a bonfire. _Someone_ needed to sing, and she wasn’t going to let that person be Roland any longer.

“ _Think you’ve had the last laugh, bet you think that everything good is gone_.” She continued, stepping forward. Roland took a step back, the smirk on his face slowly morphing into a look of nervousness and confusion, and, if Marianne wasn’t mistaken, slight fear. He hadn’t expected her to counter…

“ _Think you left me broken down. Think that I’d come running back. Baby, you don’t know me ‘cause you’re dead wrong_ …” She put a hand on Roland’s shoulder and shoved him back. He stumbled into a group of older campers, who separated to make room for him and eventually parted as Marianne began to make her own way through. 

“ _What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger! Stand a little taller! Doesn’t mean I’m lonely when I’m alone_.” The crowd around them began clapping to the beat of Marianne’s song.

“C’mon Marianne, just let me explain!” Roland pleaded.

“ _What doesn’t kill you makes a fighter! Footsteps even lighter! Doesn’t mean I’m over ‘cause you’re gone_.”

“But babe!” He tried again, this time with his hands reaching for her shoulders. He hoped to keep her at a safe distance, where she wouldn’t be able to mar his pretty face. 

“ _What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Stronger! Just me, myself, and I!_ ”

She needed to get away from here. She’d had enough, so she began to back away, still facing Roland.

“ _What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, stand a little taller_ …” Marianne took a deep breath and prepared to belt the last note, “ _Well, now it’s time to say GOODBYE!_ ” She ran off, leaving the bonfire and the whooping, hollering campers behind. She needed time to herself.

She could hear Roland on her tail, still trying to catch her, in order to do more “explaining”, so she ducked into the woods and picked up her running pace. She wove through trees and nearly tripped over roots, but she was pretty far ahead of him by now. But she couldn’t stop yet. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something through the trees, just a shadow in the fading daylight. If it was what she thought it was, she’d be able to lose him for good, or at least until she had to get back to camp.

She veered off the hiking trail she’d been following and toward her new destination, and when she arrived, she was overjoyed to see that her hunch had been correct; it was a treehouse. It was old and probably wasn’t as sturdy as it may have been in the past, but it was the perfect place to hide from Roland.

“Marianne!” She could hear his voice in the distance, so she had to be quick about this. She tested the rope ladder to see if it was still good enough to hold her weight, and once she was sure it wouldn’t snap, she hastily climbed up, all the while looking behind her to check Roland’s progress. Once she got the top, she peered over the balcony to survey the area one more time before breathing a sigh of relief. Roland was still far behind. 

She suspected he’d catch up soon, though, so she turned to crawl inside. Instead, she was met with a piercing blue gaze and a hostile snarl.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter!! Marianne and Bog's first meeting!!! Enjoy!

The startled girl let out a yelp and jumped back, not expecting to see that the treehouse already had an occupant. He put out the cigarette he’d been smoking in the ashtray he kept in the corner and then turned back to the girl.

She’d managed to scoot back to the edge of the balcony in her state of shock, and was now teetering there, just barely keeping her balance. Her arms waved frantically in the air as she struggled to regain her footing.

Bog quickly came to her aid, extending a hand to grab her wrist just before she lost her balance and pull her back onto the small porch-like area. When she was steady, she proceeded to tackle him back into the treehouse with no warning but a whispered, “Get down!”

It was… an awkward position for Bog, to say the least. She was on top of him, practically straddling him, with one small hand clasped over his mouth to keep him from making any noises. It was a bit too intimate of a position for the boy who reviled love and affection. Not to mention that Bog knew if he dared to look down, it would be a major invasion of the girl’s privacy, as her maroon tank top was relatively low-cut. Instead, he glanced up at her face and finally recognized the short brown hair and large brown eyes of the girl whose kayak nearly collided with his earlier that day.

“Hey! You’re –” He said, but his words were muffled by her fingers pressing harder on his mouth.

“ _Shut up!_ ” She hissed at him. How dare she? She intrudes upon his time to himself and she has the nerve to tell him to shut up?

“Mmmph!” Bog tried to protest, but the hand covering his mouth prevented him from saying anything intelligible. So he did what anyone would do in this situation: he licked her hand.

“Ugh!” She yelped, her eyes widening for fear that someone had heard, before vigorously wiping her hand off on his t-shirt and refraining from placing it back over his mouth.

“That was gross!” She whispered to him. “You normally go around licking strangers’ hands?”

“Do you normally go around tackling strangers?” He countered, also whispering. “Why the fuck _should_ I shut up, anyway?” He matched her intense russet glare with his own icy blue one. Bog half-wondered why she hadn’t recognized him yet, but he assumed she probably had, just was too distracted by whatever she was hiding from.

“It’s a long story, asshole.” She quietly cursed back at him. “Just fucking do it and I’ll explain later.”

“Marianne!” A deep southern twang sounded from outside and the two immediately stilled. “Where are you, darlin’? Just let me talk to ya!” The girl, presumably named Marianne, grimaced at the sound. The two waited for him to leave, and after a few minutes, the crunch of leaves beneath the boy’s feet gradually decreased in volume as he retreated. She lifted herself off of Bog, and crept to the window to make sure that the guy she’d been hiding from was completely out of earshot. Bog sat up on his elbows to observe silently.

She turned back to him once she was sure the guy was gone and assumed a cross-legged sitting position. He sat up fully now, waiting patiently for the girl to recognize him from the incident this afternoon. 

Her warm brown eyes roved over his facial features, trying to identify him in the twilight.

Black, shaggy hair, large nose, disdainful sneer, icy blue eyes… And then, finally, it clicked.

“You! You nearly crashed into me this afternoon!” She pointed a slender finger in his direction.

“It wasn’t my fault! My partner wasn’t paying any attention. I was in the back!” He argued.

“You look, what, six five? I’d think you’d be able to see over her.” She had a point, but he wouldn’t let her know that.

“I slouch.”

“Mhmm. Yeah. Let’s go with that.” She replied, clearly not convinced. He took it upon himself to change the subject back to what had happened just a few minutes before.

“Mind explaining that little episode?”

“What episode? What show? Do you need to know how Lost ends or something?” She said, tone heavy with sarcasm. She suddenly looked a bit wary about the subject change.

“Ye know exactly what I mean, tough girl.” He stated. She frowned at the unwarranted nickname, but sighed, knowing she’d have to explain what had happened to the innocent bystander she’d accidentally roped into her problems.

“My stupid ex-boyfriend wants me back and he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer.” She told him, shaking her head in disgust and wrinkling her nose. “He thinks that cheating is something that I can forgive. I don’t forgive all that easily.” Ah, so he’d broken her heart, then. Bog knew the feeling.

Bog let out a deep, rumbling, “hmm,” of agreement. He could relate to that.

“Love is a waste of time.” He scoffed.

“I know, right?” She agreed, leaning back against the wall. He was so relieved that she understood instead of arguing that ‘ _No, there are more fish in the sea!_ ’ and ‘ _I’m sure I’ll find someone better!_ ’ like some naïve schoolgirl.

They sat in silence for a while, with Marianne studying the architecture of the treehouse and Bog wondering when she planned on leaving, as he’d been enjoying some time alone before he went to wreak havoc on her camp. However, he found that wasn’t completely opposed to her company for some strange reason, and actually found it surprisingly pleasant.

Bog noticed her gaze had turned toward him while he’d been lost in thought, and he raised an eyebrow, which prompted her to clarify that she hadn’t been staring at him, but the wall behind him.

“What’s that picture behind you?” She asked, and he moved so she could get a better look. He saw that she was referring to a faded drawing of a butterfly and a dragonfly. He remembered it well; he’d drawn it on the wall himself in crayon when he was younger.

“I was quite interested in insects when I was younger.” He answered. “Took a particular fancy to dragonflies and butterflies. Wee Bog had the strange idea in his head that the two could get along, though dragonflies are known to eat butterflies.” Marianne’s nose wrinkled once more, at that bit of information.

“You drew it?”

“Yep.” Bog said. “It’s my treehouse.”

“Oh, uh… I’m sorry for, uhm, trespassing.”

“S’all right.” He said. “You needed a place te hide from that…” Bog paused, waiting for the girl to provide a name.

“Roland.” Marianne scowled.

“Sounds like quite an obnoxious fool te me.” He said, and a small smile appeared on her lips at the comment.

“You have no idea.”

“Why don’t you go back and give him what for?” Bog asked, mentally berating himself for using such a stupid term. _What for?_ What, was he in the 70’s or something? And then he wondered why he even cared what he sounded like in front of this girl he’d just met. Because he didn’t. Not one bit.

“Already did. He’s not taking the hint.” She sighed. An idea blossomed in his mind at this. If Bog liked anything, it was messing with people and he thought he may have just found the perfect target.

“Do ye need some help?” He blurted out without thinking.

“I can take care of myself.” She answered indignantly almost instantly after he’d finished his question.

“I can see that,” Bog said, and she seemed relieved at that. He continued, “But my talents might be of use te you.” What was he even saying? Why was he offering to help her? He had no idea.

“Your _talents?_ Oh, please tell me you’re not secretly an assassin or anything.” She chuckled teasingly.

“No, no.” He said, smiling faintly at the joke. _Smiling now? What was going on with him?_ “I happen to be a master prankster.” A devious smile lit up the girl’s face.

“A master prankster, eh?” He could tell Marianne liked where this was going. “I’ll need your credentials, please.”

“I got a flock of pigeons into my school principal’s office on the last day of school.” There were certainly more pranks he’d pulled, but by far, that one was the most impressive. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she considered the possibilities.

“You’re hired.” She said, extending her hand for him to shake. His much larger, longer hand engulfed hers as he took it and shook firmly.

“Great. Ye have noon lunch?” Bog asked. Marianne nodded. “Meet with me here tomorrow at noon.”

“Okay.” She smiled and stood up, just short enough to be able to stand up straight in the little treehouse. She had to duck under the door to get out and began to climb down the ladder. “See ya then!” She called to him as he took another cigarette out of his pants pocket and lit it. He gave a small wave as she left, welcoming the peace and quiet once more. But he was startled as her head poked up from the under the edge of the balcony.

“By the way, I never got your name.” She said.

“Bog,” was all he said in reply.

“Bog? Oh, so when you said ‘ _wee Bog_ ’…” She laughed to herself. “I just thought it was a Scottish thing or something! That’s… certainly not a name you hear every day…” She trailed off. He knew she wasn’t trying to insult him; merely commenting on the uniqueness of his name.

“It’s a family name, actually.” He said with a shrug.

“Oh, okay. Um, my name’s Marianne.” She replied, and he suddenly felt stupid for not asking her name in return. He’d known already, of course, because of Roland’s yelling from before, but he’d never formally asked.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Bog!” She said before he could reply, resuming her descent down the rope ladder.

“You too.” He called after her.

He was half-glad that girl had found him before he could prank her camp and unleash more chaos into her life that that loser Roland already was. He still hated her prissy camp, sure, but for some reason, he no longer wanted to do anything on a large scale. Maybe his mind would change by the end of the summer, but currently, he didn’t have the motivation to carry out his original prank plans.

There was just one thing that bothered him about the whole ordeal: what was with this sudden show of compassion. He was Bog King. He didn’t care for others anymore. He’d left that Bog behind, along with his shattered heart and crushed spirit. There was something about that girl…

“ _Is it love?_ ” The tiny, hopeful corner of Bog’s mind whispered. Bog snorted aloud as soon as the thought occurred to him. Definitely not love. She was practically a stranger, first of all. And if love didn’t exist, love at first sight was even more of a fairy tale. Second of all, Bog King didn’t do love. He loved his mother, yes. Familial love was real. He would concede that. But romance and affection? Meaningless.

He resolved that she was a kindred spirit. That’s why he was so intrigued by her. She’d been scorned by the very same entity that had broken him, and for that reason, he sensed a bond had already begun to form. It wasn’t the sweet, yet fiery brown eyes that were drawing him in. Not the shiny, perfectly-tousled bob. Not her spunky attitude. Definitely not any of those things that any other male would probably be outright drooling over. Bog didn’t care for that nonsense anymore.

All of a sudden, his phone began to buzz in his pocket. His mother. It had to be. He swiped his thumb over the screen to answer without a single glance at the caller ID and learned that he’d been right in his assumption.

“Where the _hell_ are ya, Bog? The bonfire ended an hour ago!”

“I know. I went back to the cabin.” He blatantly lied.

“So are ya invisible? I’m standing right in yer cabin right now.” She snapped back at him. “And _oh_ , that should definitely explain what happened when I noticed halfway through the ninth verse of “The Song That Never Ends” that you weren’t there anymore.” His mother ranted, heaping on the sarcasm.

“Never said I stayed in the cabin, Mother.” He retorted. She was silent for a moment, and he tried to think up a good excuse.

“Bog? Just tell me where ya are.” Griselda said, sounding more tired than she’d ever been before.

“Went for a walk.” He answered finally. “I’m heading back now anyway.”

“Good.” Her sigh of relief was audible, and he actually felt kind of guilty for worrying her, but he was nearly an adult. “Next time tell me where you’re goin’, huh?” She asked him, a hint of pleading evident in her voice.

“Hmm.” Bog grumbled into the phone, pondering her request, and then following up with a short, “Okay.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” She said, much more brightly than before. She managed to _guilt_ him! “Get back here soon, kiddo. You have campers to take care of an’ they’re gettin’ rowdy.”

“Yes, yes, Mum.” He muttered, then added, “ _And don’t call me kiddo._ ”

“Sure thing…” She replied. “kiddo.” And with that, she hung up. Bog stared at his phone in dismay. He was starting to figure out where his flair for mischief had come from. Griselda was good, and if he was going to help Marianne, he'd have to keep his guard up around his mother from now on.

She would certainly suspect the wrong thing if she found out about Marianne. _Or would it be the wrong thing?_ That deceptive corner of hope his mind whispered again.

_Shut up._ The more logical and intelligent part hissed back. The girl was an acquaintance and she would always be. The hopeful part of him wasn’t convinced.


End file.
